


settled soft and as pure as snow (i fell in love with the fire long ago)

by soulsinashes



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Character Study, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Friendship, M/M, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-02-07 09:49:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21456058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulsinashes/pseuds/soulsinashes
Summary: In a world where the original Cornelius Hickey makes it to Terror, he falls in love with Gibson anyways.And then Gibson falls for him back.This was not part of the plan.
Relationships: William Gibson/Original Cornelius Hickey
Comments: 12
Kudos: 33
Collections: The Terror Rarepair Week 2019





	settled soft and as pure as snow (i fell in love with the fire long ago)

**Author's Note:**

> for day 6 of the terror rarepair week (despite the fact this isn't that sad) and the free space for terror bingo!
> 
> title from hozier's "would that i", tumblr @ thomasjopsons

The caulker’s mate was, Gibson thought, definitively not his type. Too sweet, too earnest, too goody-two-shoes; Gibson _ should _ have found him thoroughly uninteresting. He shouldn’t have been on his mind at all, except for the most professional and impersonal of reasons.

_ So how did I get here? _ thought Gibson, somewhat desperately, pressing back into Hickey’s warm kiss. Trying to trace the chain of events went nowhere when all his focus had narrowed to Hickey’s hand on his waist, Hickey’s fingers against his jaw, Hickey’s soft sounds of pleasure, Hickey, Hickey, _ Hickey_.

They broke apart, and Hickey smiled, boyish and dear. Gibson’s heart leapt at the sight. He found himself suddenly pulled close as Hickey buried his face in the crook of Gibson’s neck. A kiss landed just under his ear.

“Thank you,” Hickey breathed, nuzzling into the hollow there. He stilled and pulled back, worry upon his face and studying Gibson intently. “May I call you William?”

_ May I call you William_, Gibson thought, trying to be mocking and failing that even in his own thoughts. “…In private,” he eventually conceded, though the answer made Hickey beam as if Gibson had agreed to marry him then and there. “You could call me Billy, as well, if you like.”

“I might,” said Hickey. “William’s a wonderful name, though.” He took Gibson’s hand. “And you may call me Cornelius. If you like.”

_ Too earnest_, Gibson repeated firmly. _ Too earnest by _ far.

“I would like that very much.”

Hickey sat with them on the mess deck, more often than not, even in the beginning. He’d introduced himself with that Irish lilt and was welcomed into their fold rather easily; Golding looked up to him and Armitage looked out for him. Even Tozer always seemed to be in good spirits for him. Gibson privately waited for the other shoe to drop. He’d known enough men like him to know it would only be a matter of time before his true face showed itself, or worse, there was no mask at all and he really was as simple as he seemed. The mere thought of it made Gibson grimace. Certainly, he was attractive, in a romance novel ingénue sort of way. If one was into that sort of thing. But no amount of good looks could make up for a boring personality.

Even so, Hickey seemed to take a shine to Gibson, though he couldn’t understand why someone like Hickey would be interested in someone like _ him_. Hickey began smiling at him more, finding more excuses to talk to him alone, to touch him. Gibson was no fool. He knew the signs of a man interested in more than just friendship between shipmates, though he resolutely ignored them where Hickey was concerned. He’d get bored after a couple of weeks with no response and move on to somebody else.

Except he didn’t.

It had been nearly five months since Gibson had noticed the first signs, and rather than backing off and moving on, Hickey’s affections had only seemed to grow stronger. He blushed often around Gibson, his Irish complexion offering no disguise of the ruddy color of his cheeks. He paid him compliments on his appearance, his knitwork, anything that seemed to catch his eye. This put Gibson on edge more than anything, knowing Hickey’s true intentions. Hickey wasn’t looking for a bit of fun with a man he could trust to keep quiet about it; he’d gone and fancied himself in love with Gibson.

He’d fancied Gibson to be a man worth loving.

He felt guilty, not putting him to rights immediately, but Gibson wasn’t about to put him through the embarrassment correcting his mistake would make. He figured that even affections like Hickey’s, unnurtured, would wither away eventually.

And if he enjoyed pretending for a while that he _ was _ a man worth loving, well, nobody would have to know but him.

The problem came when Gibson found himself smiling more around Hickey in turn. When he found himself making excuses to see him, to hear his voice, to surreptitiously brush their fingers together as he handed Hickey a fork or a book or the progress on his knitting. The worst part of it all is that Gibson had no idea of the extent of this behavior until he was cornered one day by Armitage, who told him in no uncertain terms that if he were leading Hickey on so cruelly, then clearly he was not the man Armitage had thought him to be. _ Your mistake_, thought Gibson, bitterly, though the more he thought of being the cause of Hickey’s hurt, the more his heart twisted in turn. Armitage must have seen the turmoil on his face, because his entire demeanor softened after a moment.

He put a hand on Gibson’s shoulder. “I know this is hard for you. I can tell you don’t know what to do with your own damn feelings. Maybe you’ve told yourself you don’t have them. But he hasn’t had to act tough like you have.” A squeeze, and his expression turned stern. “Don’t give him reason to.” He walked away, leaving Gibson alone with an awful realization and the terrible sense that, for the first time in a great many years, he had been three moves behind in this game the whole time without knowing.

Of _ course _ the first person to find him in this state was Hickey. And Gibson, unprepared to deal with him while he was still processing his conversation with Armitage, turned and fled to his cabin, feeling ashamed the whole way.

When Hickey caught his eye the next morning, he made to discreetly shuffle away before Gibson took his arm. “I’m sorry,” he said, “for making it seem as though I ran from you yesterday. I had the sudden need to be entirely alone, and I fear I hadn’t the energy to explain as much to you.” Hickey looked incredibly hopeful, and with a jolt, Gibson realized he’d probably lost his last chance to dissuade Hickey’s feelings towards him.

“Well,” said Hickey, “I understand such a desire out here more than anywhere else.” He smiled. “It _ is _awfully hard to get a moment to yourself, isn’t it?”

Relieved at the easy out, Gibson released Hickey’s arm with a weak smile. “Yes, it is. I’m glad you understand.”

“Well, I won’t keep you,” said Hickey, seeming back to his usual cheerful self. “I’m sure you have work to do.”

The two said their goodbyes, then, as Hickey turned to go:

“I don’t think I _ could _ dislike you, you know,” Gibson murmured. Hickey looked over his shoulder in surprise. “I don’t know if _ anyone _ could. It would be like disliking Neptune.”

Hickey smiled, first at the mention of the dog, then wider as Gibson’s sentiment registered. “Well, thank you,” he said softly. “I’ll see you at lunch?”

“Of course,” Gibson replied, and watched him nod and go, resolutely ignoring the pleasant fluttering in his chest.

Navigating his friendship with Hickey, Gibson thought, and was willing to concede that they were definitively friends if it made avoiding the reality of their mutual attraction easier, became a lot harder when he had to keep his emotions in check at all times: he couldn’t let show his reluctant affections so blatantly, as they were still in the navy, and Gibson was still hardly the sort of man that a man like Hickey should get himself entangled with, but he could hardly pull away entirely and have to endure the guilt of knowing how much he’d hurt him.

Evidently, he didn’t do a good enough job of concealing it, as he was the common recipient of various shades of knowing looks from Armitage and Golding and even Tozer, who he assumed had to have been told by the other two, absolute traitors that they were. Golding watched as if he were watching an Austen novel play out in real life, Armitage looked at him pointedly and expectantly, and Tozer seemed slightly baffled by the whole ordeal, though Gibson could hardly tell which part confused him so and certainly couldn’t just ask him to find out. Even so, his friendship with the group, and especially Hickey, grew stronger by the day, entirely without his knowledge until the day Golding, in a bout of homesickness, knocked on his and Armitage’s doors both, Hickey in tow, and the three of them comforted him into the night until he fell asleep against Gibson on Armitage’s bed. He stared wide-eyed at him, tucked into his side like a child, and missed the besotted look that had taken over Hickey’s face.

Armitage had missed no such thing. “I’ll take him to his hammock, then,” he sighed, standing. “And use the head for a while after.” He looked at Gibson and Hickey significantly. “I may be some time. You don’t have to leave here right away.” With that, he stooped to pick up Golding and left the cabin, Hickey getting the door for him. As he closed it, he took a deep, fortifying sigh, and Gibson felt himself fill with dread.

“So. We’re alone,” Hickey offered.

“We are.”

Hickey turned to face him. “I… I don’t know if I’ve simply been imagining things, so ignore me if I’m wrong, but… I look at you. Quite a bit. And sometimes, I don’t know if it’s just me hoping, but I swear… sometimes I swear I see you looking at me the same way.”

Oh no.

“I… if I’m misunderstanding, feel free to never speak to me again, now that you know how I really am, and I’ve always been inclined like this, I just…”

What a _ fool _ he was, Gibson thought, panicked. He’d just given up his only way to play the situation off. Everyone knew navy men fooled around at sea, even if they only ever fooled around with women once they were back ashore. But to admit to being that way _ on land_… if Gibson were not the same way, he could only imagine what he could have done with such information. What he _ had _ done, to others. Nothing so blatant as a full accusation, but being a steward meant he could insinuate, plant the seed and let it grow without his influence. He’d been caught _ in flagrante _ before as well, and he’d said what he had to in order to escape punishment himself. He could do all that to Hickey. He could. He _ could_.

Hickey walked over to him and took his hand. “Do you… feel the same?”

He _ couldn’t_.

Gibson could only look up at him in wonder.

“…Gibson? Do you?” He looked more and more as if he were ready to bolt.

Gibson managed a tiny nod, unconsciously. He didn’t realize he had until Hickey’s face brightened and he sat down next to him, moving one hand to his face and the other to his waist.

He paused, looking into Gibson’s eyes.

He leaned in.


End file.
